The Subtle Art of Forgotten Formation
Like vague shapes beneath a fogged glass, the contours of thoughts drift silently. Have you ever seen a shadow in a shape it shouldn't be?
Imagine a conversation with echoes. Not the kind that repeats but the ones that linger just beyond the edge of hearing. You feel their presence, invisible, yet undeniably there.
Sometimes, I write things I don't remember saying. These echoes are like ink stains on the subconscious pages, whispers of past selves speaking in cozy corners.
In the art of forgetting, there is a strange formation—like molecules rearranging in a dream, creating patterns of familiarity and mystery. Have you ever traced shapes on fogged glass?
There’s a sense of discovery in your own forgotten words, like flipping through a book left unfinished, every line a doorway to a memory untold. Maybe one day, you'll wander back.